Crazy cultural studies

I'm locked in the car parked at a roadside restaurant. Accidentally. I’m looking at the brawl outside the window and repeating silently: «Hey, it’s Dagestan and I’m here».
My friend is coming: «How do you like it? And there is a real horse!».
We’re going around the fight. At the entrance to the restaurant a man is hardly getting on the horse. The door is swinging open by legs, the pursuit is beginning, but the first «cowboy» is successfully escaping.
- Western, the true Dagestan Western. And even the door is like in the movies.
- Better take a look on those doors!
It’s too dark, but I’m able to see public toilet door, made out of the plastic windows. OK. It’s Dagestan, and I'm here.
After the Western episodes there is the only family with two little girls in the restaurant hall. The both girls are in the leopard total looks.
- In Dagestan children are taught to be «luxury», – my friend is whispering.
(We are in a scientific expedition here. From our friends and relatives we’ve heard all the most unpleasant stereotypes about Dagestan – terrorism, aggressive Islam, young men who dances «lezginka» on the Red Square in Moscow. We are scared, and everything is weird. So we’ve set up our usual jerk-postmodernist optics).
But another problem is waiting for us. Caucasian cuisine should be terrific. But… But my first disappointment (later it will be the monstrous Dagestan wine) is the khinkal. It turns out that «khinkal» is not the same as «khinkali», a tender, juicy, giant ravioli analog. No, the khinkal is a big hard piece of boiled mutton with small tortillas.
I’m hardly chewing and looking at the painting, the replica of Tretyakov Gallery masterpiece. Dagestan artist has inserted a cheerful spitz to the hunters of the nineteenth century.
After the dinner the hostess is offering to buy illicit local brandy (choko-brandy!) just from the factory.
The end of the Western movie, let’s «Boardwalk Empire».
We’re going to Makhachkala, the capital of the republic. And I’m trying to understand is my look presentable here or not.
Dagestan is a famous Muslim region of Russia. So I’ve already prepared my outfit – a long skirt, flat shoes, a headscarf and a small backpack.
«Are you a refugee?», «Are you from the sabbath school?» will be the responses in the city. It’s Dagestan. And I’m here. And obviously I’ve screwed up. And thank God.
P.S. In a couple of days I will buy the wonderful dress decorated by hundreds of Apple logos, a bulky golden chain and «raybans» for 5$.